“I give and bequeath to Janet Praed, daughter of my old friend, Peter Praed, the sum of one hundred thousand pounds, standing in Bank of England and Government of India stock, free of legacy duty.”
“Hah!” cried Jessop, in a triumphant tone; and unable to contain himself, he rose and crossed to Janet to take her hands, which she resigned to him, while Clive felt as if he had received a thrust from a knife, as the old lawyer raised his head and gazed curiously at the group before him.
Then, as a low murmur once more arose, the lawyer coughed loudly, and went on; every ear being again attent to his words, as he raised his voice and sent a galvanic shock through the semicircle of his listeners.
“Conditionally—”
He paused, and Jessop dropped Janet’s hands, while his lips parted, displaying his white teeth.
“Conditionally,” repeated the lawyer, “upon her becoming the wife of my son, Clive Reed. In the event of her refusing to fulfil these my wishes, the above legacy of one hundred thousand pounds to become null and void.”
Jessop muttered an oath beneath his breath as he literally staggered at this announcement.
Then, recovering himself—
“Stop!” he cried hoarsely; “there is another codicil.”
“No, sir,” said the old lawyer gravely; and he began slowly to double up the will.